


Under the Cover of Darkness

by manixzen



Series: HP Kinktober 2020 [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Clothes On, Frottage, HP Kinktober 2020, M/M, Making Out, Minor Pansy Parkinson/Ginny Weasley, One Shot, Party Games, Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, Post-Hogwarts, Semi-Public Sex, Seven Minutes In Heaven Game, Snogging, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:00:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26772571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manixzen/pseuds/manixzen
Summary: Thanks to Pansy, Draco's stuck at a party with a whole bunch of drunk Gryffindors. And now they want to play party games. If only Draco can slip out unnoticed before this gets any worse.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: HP Kinktober 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952512
Comments: 36
Kudos: 300
Collections: HP Kinktober 2020





	Under the Cover of Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the HP Kinktober 2020  
>  **Day 2: Instant Darkness Powder**
> 
> Thank you to triggerlil for putting this together and the quick beta!

Draco took another drag off his cigarette wondering again how he’d wound up at this mess of a party. Well, he knew exactly whose fault it was, and she was currently in the corner sucking face with her new girlfriend—her new fit Quidditch-player girlfriend who happened to be a Weasley.

“Sorry!”

Some of Draco’s drink sloshed over his shirt as yet another drunken former Gryffindor bumped into him. He was pretty sure this one had been a year or two behind them at Hogwarts. Draco grimaced and waved his wand over the mess.

“I can get you another one if you’d like.” The drunken man seemed like he was attempting flirting, but his words were a little too slurred to have the right effect.

“I’m fine,” he said coldly, brushing off his clothes as he headed to the kitchen. He knew he should just leave, but to be honest, he hadn’t been out in a long time, and it felt good to just be around other people and out of the oppressing silence of the Manor.

This party had started out fine, well as fine as a party could be when it was filled with mostly former Gryffindors that hated his guts. Fortunately, everyone seemed content to just ignore him. It had been three years, but he knew that wasn’t nearly long enough.

The only one who even seemed to look at him was Potter, more of a glare than a look really. Draco found him glaring back just as often, secretly happy that it seemed to be rattling up Potter and pulling his attention from his friends more often than not. A new drink in hand, he headed back to the rest of the party and once again caught Harry staring at him.

Just as Draco was perfecting another look of disdain, Lavender pushed past him to get to the middle of the room. “Hey everyone, let’s play a game!”

“Strip Exploding Snap!” someone shouted out.

“Spin the bottle!” Dean Thomas yelled out.

“Nooo,” Neville whined from the spot where he was curled up by the fire.

“Boring—” Pansy drawled. She must have come up for air at some point in the last few minutes, as she and Ginerva were now sitting on the end of the sofa only partially intertwined with one another.

“Oh yeah, what do you suggest then?” Potter glared at Pansy. Ah, there it was.

Pansy just rolled her eyes.

“What about seven minutes in heaven?” Dean spoke up again.

“What’s that?” Ginerva asked.

“It’s a Muggle game where two people get blindfolded and then go in the cupboard to snog,” he explained. Apparently Dean just really wanted to snog someone given his two suggestions.

“Wouldn’t you know who you were going in with then since you'd see them getting blindfolded? How’s that any different than spin the bottle?”

A few of them proceeded to argue the merits of Muggle snogging games, which Draco promptly tuned out and focused on finishing his drink. If he had any sense, he’d leave now.

“I have an idea.” As soon as Ginerva spoke those words, he decided it was time. This wouldn’t end well.

She stood up, walked over and grabbed a purse she must have stashed behind one of the armchairs. 

He knocked back his drink and stood up just as she pulled out a black packet. He broke out in a cold sweat. There was no way he could make it across the room to leave now without drawing attention to himself.

“What?” someone asked.

“If that’s drugs, it’s not enough for everyone,” Michael Corner piped up, laughing at his own joke. Draco would have rolled his eyes if he could have done anything but stand there frozen in panic. 

“Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder,” she replied with a raised eyebrow.

“What are we going to do with that?” Dean asked. 

The room was now perfectly quiet, waiting on her explanation.

“Well it’s like the game Dean was talking about, instead of just two people in the closet, no one knows who anyone is right?”

Oh, fuck.

“Oh fuck!” Dean echoed, but his face suggested he was far more excited about this than Draco.

“Wait, but how does this work?” Lavender asked. “We’d know where everyone is already.” She seemed to be honing in on Michael Corner’s position even as she brought up this potential problem.

“Not if everyone has to move around the room first.” Pansy was sitting up now, interest clearly piqued. 

Merlin, she was a terrible friend. Couldn’t she see he was sweating in a panic over here? He couldn’t play this game—even if he didn’t still have nightmares about the chaos that ensued the last time he used that powder, which nicely morphed with everything else he felt crushing shame about—he couldn’t snog _anyone_ in this room. Plus if they figured out it was him... he shuddered. They’d just as likely hex him under the secrecy of the darkness.

“—for 1 minute and then we start. Ok, then so we’re ready?”

He realized he’d missed everyone agreeing to the terms of the game. It was settled. He looked around for a way out and saw only keen expressions and excitement... well maybe a few people were panicking with him, given Longbottom's expression.

Ginerva stepped through the mass of bodies. Merlin, there were at least fifteen people in here. Draco felt another flush of panic run through him. The last thing he saw was Pansy lean forward and hook her pinky around her girlfriend’s, the bitch.

And then it went dark.

At first, it was unnervingly quiet, and Draco thought in a panic that maybe it was some new mix that also stifled all sound. But then a giggling laugh burst out and people started shuffling around. Draco stood perfectly still for a beat and then tried to slide towards in the direction of the door. Maybe he could get into the hall and ride this out there.

He felt someone else brush by and heard a few more laughs.

Just a few more steps. 

He got bold and took a large step forward running full body into someone. Not wanting to do anything that could be construed as instigating anything, he froze. Then a hand was on his arm, gentle but firm.

A warm body leaned towards him; he kept still.

Then a breath, just under his ear. 

He inhaled sharply and was hit with the subtle smell of body wash or shampoo, distinctly masculine. Allowing himself to lean in just a hair, he felt a slight stubble brush his cheek and shivered. It had been so long.

Maybe he could do this, he reasoned with himself. Just this once.

Everyone knew he was in the room when this started after all. It wasn’t as if they didn’t know it was a possibility. He imagined himself leaning forward and just taking, but then imagined what might happen when the powder wore off—

Then lips were on his and his mind was blank.

A loud groan escaped his lips as he was pushed up against the wall. Oh, gods. He grasped at the other man, feeling tight and hard muscles through his t-shirt. He dipped his hands under the hem of the man’s shirt. If this was going to happen, he might as well enjoy it. The inevitable fallout be damned.

Draco hooked his ankle around the man’s leg and pulled him closer, pinning himself between the man and the wall. The man ground up against him, giving Draco just enough friction to excite every nerve ending in his body, but not enough to actually be satisfactory.

Draco slipped one of his hands out of the t-shirt and up his back, coming to rest on messy hair before pulling gently. 

The room was slowly getting louder. Sounds of snogging, moaning, and still some giggling and shuffling around. At some point, someone must have knocked something large and heavy over even. It was followed up by some light swearing and more laughter though, so likely no one was disastrously injured yet.

“Fuck,” the other man said.

Draco froze again. He’d know that voice anywhere. 

Potter. 

Draco’s head fell back against the wall as the other man sucked down his throat. He couldn’t do this. He wanted. Oh gods, he wanted. But he couldn’t do this to Potter. No matter what Draco pretended he felt towards the man, he couldn’t let Potter hate himself when this moment was over. Even if this was every teenage wet dream come to life. He wasn’t that selfish of a bastard... not anymore, at any rate.

Just as he went to push him away, Harry rolled his hips into his, pulling moans out of both of them.

“Malfoy,” Potter whispered, barely audible. 

A flush spread across Draco’s whole body, and he couldn’t quite suppress a shiver. He had to have been hearing things. 

But… what if?

In possibly the bravest move he’d ever dared to make, he leaned forward, lips grazing Harry’s ear. “Potter.”

Answering Draco’s question, Potter shuddered against him. 

Whatever gentle hesitancy had previously existed was gone in the huff of a breath, in a quiet moan. Lips were mashed together, teeth clashing, hands grasping. 

Draco was still pinned against the wall, unable to quite get the friction his body sought. He finally grabbed Potter’s hips and pulled him just slightly to the side, lining them up. 

Potter groaned and pushed his hardness against Draco’s, quickly cottoning on. They soon found their rhythm. 

Gods, he was going to come in his pants. From Potter. In a room full of their former classmates. He was pretty sure he’d had this dream before. 

A loud moan escaped his lips, fortunately, drowned out by the noise of the room, everything from laughing conversations to, well, he was pretty sure that was Pansy screaming out her orgasm across the room. 

“Oh god, Malfoy. I’m going to—”

“Do it,” he whispered in Potter’s ear, thrusting against him, rocking as best he could between the immovable wall behind him and Potter’s hard body. 

Potter tensed up and continued to rut against him, his movements becoming more erratic. Draco chased his own release, keeping a tight grip on the other man, afraid he might run off now once he was finished. 

But Potter stayed close, sucking on Draco’s neck, his hands running down his arms. He trailed small kisses back up his neck and then leaned close to his ear, “Come for me, Malfoy.”

Draco was done. His body shuddered out an intense orgasm as he pulled Harry closer to him. They stood there panting for a minute, neither moving. Potter shuffled back for a second, one hand still on Draco’s arm, as if keeping his bearing. Draco felt a gentle spell wash over him cleaning up the mess in his pants. 

And then he felt reality come crashing down, pushing back any post-orgasmic bliss he might have otherwise felt. It was better than he’d ever hoped, better than he’d fantasized about so many nights in his dorm. But he knew he couldn’t have it, not in the light of day.

“I should go,” he said quietly. 

He felt Potter’s grip on his arm tighten.

“Don’t.”

Suddenly the hand on his arm was gone, and Draco felt bereft. Even if no one could see him, he couldn’t cry here. 

But before he could turn to continue toward the door, the one he had never made it to, a hand was in his, tugging gently. 

He was being pulled deeper into the room. He couldn’t do anything but follow. 

He felt the presence of a few people as they passed them and heard a few others, quiet moaning and the sounds of lips meeting. There was still a noisy conversation going on in the corner, it sounded like Weasley, Granger, and Longbottom. Pansy and Ginerva must have worn themselves out as they had gone quiet. 

He tripped over something, possibly someone’s foot, but Potter only tightened his grip and kept him steady. 

Then his hand was tugged down and he found himself seated, squished tight between Potter and the arm of the sofa. Harry leaned against him and pulled Draco’s arm around him. 

“Are you sure?” Draco whispered.

“Quite.” 

  
  
  



End file.
